


Snap

by SigmaDelta



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Tendershipping, ahhh yes the otp envelop me in your dysfunctional glow, kind of, old stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-07
Updated: 2013-02-07
Packaged: 2017-11-28 12:31:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/674422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SigmaDelta/pseuds/SigmaDelta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After putting up with the spirit of the Sennen Ring for so long, Ryou finally decides he's had enough. However, his confrontation doesn't go exactly as planned...<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	Snap

Ryou woke up on the sofa in his living room. His head was pounding, his stomach churning, the room spinning. Last night was a blur, but as he looked around the room he could hear the memories screeching back at him. No, not his memories…

_“Bakura, you reek of blood. What the hell have you been doing? Are you drunk?” Marik had demanded. The pale yami chuckled and shrugged, staggering over out of the rain-dampened hallway and sliding his hands around the Egyptian’s neck, breathing heavily into Marik’s face._

_“Maybe, and if you knew what was good for you, you would be too. I have just the tool to rectify your lack of wasted-ness. And whatever it is I've been doing, I want you to fuck me ten times more violently.” He growled, grin spreading across his face and walked Marik over to the sofa. Stumbling backwards, he managed to back into one of his host’s father’s artefacts. Being a collector of many rare and often dubious items, Ryou’s dad left such things as priceless china vases around. This particular one had been Ming dynasty, 5 th century, and it was now shattered on the floor in more than a dozen pieces. Marik grimaced._

_“Aren’t you gonna clean that up?” He suggested. Bakura pulled a sceptical face before falling forwards onto the couch, pinning the tombkeeper beneath him._

_“Let the yadonushi do it.” He grunted, licking Marik’s neck and grinding his hips against the Egyptian’s. “Meanwhile…”_

_He snaked his hands up Marik’s shirt, clawing at the tombkeeper’s torso and thrusting his tongue deep into the boy’s ear. Marik moaned quietly and ran his hands through Bakura’s hair, revolted when he found it saturated with a dilute, coppery liquid. The smell of blood was even worse close up and Marik’s fingers retreated from his partner’s hairline immediately._

_“I’m going to regret asking what… I mean, who that’s from.” He pouted as Bakura straightened himself._

_“Apologies. Is it turning you off?” Bakura frowned for just a minute before shaking his head violently, sending cascades of red droplets splattering onto the cream carpet. Eh, my host’ll clean it up, he figured. Hair now partially dry, he gazed down at Marik with a lust-filled stare and cocked an eyebrow. “Better?”_

_Marik laughed as Bakura tugged his shirt off, towelling his hair on it and tossing the now-bloodied tee to one side. The pale yami dived back down onto Marik, biting the boy’s bottom lip and reaching a hand down between his legs where he straddled the Egyptian, gripping tight on Marik’s encased manhood and massaging it erect. The boy moaned deeply and smirked. “Much.”_

_“Excellent. Now, where were we…? Oh yes. You were going to stick your cock in my ass…”_

Ryou felt sick just thinking of it. He hadn’t been able to see Marik, nor what they were doing, and he was quite glad he couldn’t, but the lines in Bakura’s head were heard loud and clear. _Let the yadonushi do it… my host’ll clean it up…_ The pot was still on the floor next to the area that was dotted with spatters of dilute blood. Utterly naked, Ryou tried to sit up, but the rising bolus of vomit forced him back down again. Lights danced in front of his eyes and his chest felt tight and heavy. He’d woken up in unfortunate circumstances before, but never as bad as this. Getting drunk and leaving his host to deal with the hangover - this was a new low, even for Bakura.

Marik had left early that morning before Ryou had even woken, but somehow the tombkeeper’s trousers were still on the floor with a post-it note stuck to them.

‘After you fell asleep I finished the whiskey and ate the last of the whipped cream. Gone to fetch more… I think I’m still a little drunk. I can’t find my pants anywhere. I’m sure they’ll turn up eventually. See you soon, tiger,  
M x  
PS, I think a cat got in through the window and pissed on your bed. Either that or gave birth to kittens, the mess was pretty dark  
PPS, yep, that’s definitely kitty blood. I’m going to pick up some bleach for yadonushi, tell him he can pay me back later’

Ryou’s lips contorted into a scowl at that. Clean it up… and then pay _him_ back? His brain felt like it was taking a battering ram to the inside of his skull, which was not helped when the dark chuckles began to echo around it.

 ** _Get yourself some tabasco and a raw egg. That should clear you right up._** Bakura chided.

 _Shut up! I can’t believe you left me all this to handle!_  Ryou thought back, furiously.

 ** _If you’re talking about the vase, I can assure you that it was a fake anyway._** The spirit casually flung back.

_That’s not the point. You can’t just cause a huge mess and then expect me to act like your little maid and clean it up. Take control, take an aspirin and clean this up. You got blood on the carpet, on my favourite shirt, and there’s a feral cat in my bedroom. Deal with it. Now._

**_No._ **

_Bakura…_ Ryou was rapidly losing patience. _Stop acting like a stubborn child._

**_Why don’t you clean it up and I’ll deal with Marik._ **

_And by ‘deal with’ I assume you mean ‘have more sex with’, am I correct?_

**_…Yes._ **

_Not happening. Get out here._ Ryou urged, but the spirit remained motionless.

**_Why don’t we wait for Marik to get back and see if I can persuade him to do it?_ **

_And if he doesn’t?_

**_I’ll fuck him into doing it._ **

_That’s your answer to everything, isn’t it? I don’t see why you spend so much time with him. I thought you were supposed to be plotting to murder my friends._ Ryou thought with a cynical pout.

**_Indeed. In fact, I believe I’m at my most productive on the whole ‘evil scheme’ front while Marik’s pounding me. My brain juices just seem to flow so much easier when he’s thrusting his huge, thick cock into me…_ **

_Bakura, stop it._

**_…over and over again just fucking me relentlessly until I can’t feel my legs and I just wish there were more of him so he could take me from the behind while he shoves his cock in my mouth…_ **

_Bakura…_

**_…and all the while there are more Mariks jizzing on my body and drowning me in cum before making me lap it up like a depraved little slut and teasing me until I’m begging to cum myself, at which point all the Marik-clones descend onto my cock and begin to suck me off as I-_ **

_BAKURA!!_ Ryou screamed in his mind and in reality, silencing the spirit. _That’s it! Bring me in._

**_Host, I said I-_ **

_You don’t have to leave the Ring, just bring me in. We have to talk._

The spirit was silent for a moment, then Ryou felt the all-too familiar sensation of his own body swallowing him up. The next thing he knew, he found himself in his yami’s soul room. He’d only been in once or twice before, but the dark and near-empty void was still terrifying, as was the constant feeling that someone was watching him, a being of darkness that surpassed everything and anything he would ever see. Zorc was watching him, this he knew. Zorc was always watching. His heart was undecided as to whether it was more scared or furious, but Ryou quickly decided that it was the latter when he laid eyes on his yami. Storming up to him, Ryou planted his hands on his hips and glared. Bakura barely gave him a moment’s notice, just grunted and turned away again.

“Bakura.” Ryou frowned. The pale darkness turned slowly and grinned.

“Hello, yadonushi. So nice of you to drop my and visit lonely ore-sama.” He smirked and pulled a low, mock bow. Ryou scowled as best he could and turned up his lip.

“Bakura, I’m sick of this.”

“Of what?”

“All of this. You know what I mean.”

“I can’t say I do, host.” Bakura smirked. Suddenly the rage surged into Ryou’s body. A fury he’d never felt before coursed through him as he strode right up to the spirit and yelled.

"OF COURSE YOU DO! I’m sick of _EVERYTHING_ you do! You take control of my body, you disrupt my life, you try to murder my friends, you make me scared of my own company, of being alone! And when you steal my body, you make me do terrible, disgusting things with Marik! I’ve had enough!" Ryou's shout died at that and a joyless smile spread across his face as he shook his head. "And you don't even have the common courtesy to call me by my real name. I hate you. I hate you, Bakura. I can only sum up the feelings of disgust, loathing and spite in that phrase. I hate you."

“What on earth can I say now?” Bakura arched an eyebrow and folded his arms across his chest. He had not expected this kind of outburst from his host. “You’ve just summed up the truth in a couple of sentences: I am you. You’re my body, my yadonushi. I know you need me, even if you hate me.”

“ _I_ need _you_?” Ryou scoffed, but Bakura didn’t smile, just nodded.

“Your ‘friends’ don’t trust you as far as they can punt you. You’re always the one left out or left behind. You’re lonely, you have no real friends.” He shrugged lazily.

“I can’t have real friends because you _KILL_ them all, Bakura!” The pale hikari bit back, hating the sensation of tears rushing to his eyes. “Don’t try and make what we have personal. You’re not looking out for me. Hell, you don’t even care what happens to me so long as you have your physical form to go back to. So don’t preach to me about loneliness, Bakura. You and I both know who’s better acquainted with that familiar friend. Five thousand years, Bakura. You can’t call me the lonely one.”

“So you think you’re better than me, eh landlord?” The spirit twisted his lips into a cruel smile. “I know you better than anyone you’ve ever known. I know you better than your own father. Tell me, does he know you never stopped writing your letters to Amane?”

“Don’t bring her into this, you bastard.” Ryou’s face immediately darkened. “You don’t deserve to say her name. At least where she is she’ll never have to deal with the likes of you. She’s happier than me, is that what you want me to admit?”

“I know dead people who are happier than you, host.” Bakura chuckled emptily. “And I should know. You need me because at the end of the day, I’m all you have. Your friends will all abandon you in the end. Your father will forget your existence as he slips into the old age you mortals fear so much. Even your closest confidents whisper behind your back about the crazy white-haired boy that thinks he can talk to ghosts. At the end of the day, I will remain. I will always be here, yadonushi, whether you like it or not. And as you grow and change and feel real hate perhaps you’ll see where I’m coming from, but I’ll never abandon you. I am you.”

“You’re not me.” Ryou spat, his voice bitter and dead. “You call me a landlord, but you don’t respect me that much. You’ve destroyed my life. You destroy everything you touch. You’ll destroy Marik eventually. You may not mean it but it will happen, you’ll break his heart. You aren’t capable of love, but he blindly thinks you care about him.”

“I don’t love him, he knows that.” The spirit shook his head. “He’s a messed-up, unstable child that happens to have a desirable body. There’s nothing more to it, no high-brow feelings of infatuation or fondness. I just like fucking with him. I like the feeling of his body on mine-“

“That’s the thing, Bakura, IT’S _NOT_ YOURS!” The boy jabbed a finger into his yami’s chest and glared into Bakura’s remorseless eyes. “Stop calling it that! It’s _MY_ body, you’re _MY_ tenant and you should be grateful that I put up with your shit! You think it doesn’t hurt me, what you do? I’m _NOT_ YOU, Bakura, I can’t remain cold and indifferent when my friends shun me and I can’t take seeing you throwing my body around the way you do! You think I enjoy having to make up excuses and lies when my father comes around only to find Marik’s cum on every surface?!”

“Host, what’re you-“ Bakura began, a little unnerved by his hikari’s sudden change of character. He’d never known the boy to be this vulgar or furious.

“Shut up!” Ryou half yelled, half hysterically laughed. “Shut up, Bakura! I’m tired of all the shit you put me through. And after all of that… you don’t even have the decency to say my name. You never think about what I want.”

“And what _do_ you want, yadonushi?” Bakura challenged.  The hikari paused for a moment in thought. He didn’t know what exactly he wanted… then it dawned on him. After seeing it nearly every day from within the confines of his own soul room, the sinful acts the spirit of the Sennen Ring performed on his temperamental mess of an Egyptian lover, Ryou finally realised in a dawning of sudden, brutal clarity.  

“I… I think I want….” Ryou’s eyes widened and suddenly the rage surged into him again, though his final word only came out as a whisper. “…you.”

Without a further word, Ryou pressed his lips against Bakura's, kissing as forcefully and angrily as his yami had done so many times with them in the past. He grabbed Bakura's hand, dragging it to his own crotch and rubbing it ferociously, forcing the spirit to pleasure him. He gained little joy from it, not smiling or moaning as he felt his manhood begin to harden, just crushing their lips together and thrusting his tongue deep into Bakura's throat.

Bakura tore his lips away from his hikari's and wrenched his arm away, balling his hands up into fists of defiance.

"Yadonushi, listen to me! I-"

 **CRACK!** Ryou's palm collided with his cheek and he toppled backwards, the blow taking him by surprise. The boy strode up to him and grabbed his shoulders, pulling his face close so he could see Ryou's wide, bloodshot eyes and trembling lips as his cheek flushed a painful crimson.

"Don't _CALL_ ME THAT!" Ryou shouted, his face a tear-streaked mess of hatred, shame and lust. "I'm not just your host!"

"Then what are you?" Bakura demanded, attempting to regain his footing. Ryou's temple pulsed with fury and his fingertips dug sharply into his yami's shoulders.

"I can't believe you just asked me that." He grit his teeth, tone disgusted. "I'll show you."

Without warning, he focused all his strength into his arms, spinning Bakura around before throwing him forwards into the arm of his ‘throne’. The metal hit Bakura hard in the stomach and he doubled over in pain, long enough for his hikari to wrap slender yet strong arms around his hips and undo his jeans, yanking the zipper down harshly.

He grabbed the back of Bakura's jeans and the waistband of his boxers simultaneously and tugged on them, hard, so they fell far enough down the yami's posterior for Ryou to see his ass, pale and prickled with gooseflesh from being exposed to the sudden chill.

"Host, you _\- GAH!_ "

"STOP IT!" Ryou yelled, bringing his hand down hard on his yami's exposed buttock. "STOP CALLING ME THAT!"

With one hand he held Bakura down whilst the other undid his jeans, freeing his erect manhood, the crown of which shone an angry red in the dim light of Bakura's soul room. He spat on his hand, slathering his prick with saliva and nesting the tip between his yami's cheeks. He took a deep breath and brushed a lock of shimmering white hair from his wild, chestnut eyes.

"I have a name." He whispered, voice devoid of emotion or expression. "And now I want to hear you scream it."

With that, he drove his cock into Bakura as hard as he could and began to pump furiously, his hips thrusting quick and hard, slapping audibly against his yami's behind. Bakura initially yelped, the spit not doing much in the way of a lubricant, it felt like his hikari was going in dry and it was painful. But the pain was sweetened by the feeling of Ryou's length being continually sheathed inside him again and again. His fingers gripped onto the arm of his throne and he moaned loudly, his hips bucking against the air at every thrust of his hikari's own. The sound of the cohesion of wet flesh and Yami Bakura's unrestrained, animalistic groans of pleasure were the only sounds in the empty void. Ryou worked silently, not shouting or moaning, barely a grunt rising from his lungs as he grabbed Bakura's right thigh and wrenched it up onto the throne, spreading the yami's legs even further apart, almost agonisingly so. His nails cut in mercilessly to the flesh of Bakura's slight hips, so hard that Ryou wouldn't have been surprised if he was drawing blood. He didn't care. He just tugged harder on his yami's pelvis in quick, brutal jerks, listening silently to Bakura's lewd cries.

Yami Bakura was by no means tight, he supposed he had Marik to thank for that, but the relentless pounding of Ryou's cock into his ass made him feel like a virgin, though he was loathe to admit it. His hikari wasn't necessarily larger than his lover, but the position he was in made it feel like he was being torn in two, and he loved it. Had he been an ordinary mortal, he would have shrunk at his hikari's sudden ruthless change in attitude, but instead he adored it. He contemplated calling the boy yadonushi again, just to feel the sting of the slap and see how roughly Ryou could take him, but his entire lower portion was already being ploughed into submission. He cried out for more, and was met with silence from the boy until Ryou's lips, usually so kind and quick to smile, parted a small way and he whispered in a remorseless, dead tone.

"What's my name, Bakura?" He asked, the question eerily audible over the noise, despite it being near-silent. His question was met with more screams of pleasure from the yami. "Bakura..."

Ryou didn't smile or scowl as he reached between his yami's legs, pulling Bakura's already-stiffening manhood free and slapping his fingers around it, jerking on the shaft as sharply and relentlessly as he continued to ram his own flesh into Bakura's rear. At the sudden stimulation, Bakura's body began to spasm, the muscles taut in his thighs twitching and tensing without his consent. Still his host's voice carried over the din.

"What's my name?" Ryou breathed, lifelessly. "Tell me, Bakura."

Yami Bakura clenched his jaw and grit his teeth to try and stifle the moans that were now leaving his body in the form of a long string of obscene cuss words. His instinct silenced, he pictured the face of the kind boy that was now so remorseless and cold and, to his mild chagrin he felt himself growing even hotter.

"R... Ry- _gah!_ _Dammit!_ " Mentally, Bakura cursed his own lack of control as another groan of bliss cracked his words. He bit his lip, hard, and gripped the throne until his knuckles went as white as his hair. "Ryou. It's Ryou."

"Not host? Or landlord, or yadonushi? Say it again." The boy said, sounding disinterested. Bakura could barely keep control of the one leg he was supporting himself with, let alone his lips and throat. Release was near; he could feel it in his swelling shaft, in his aching balls. Not long now.

"Ryou." He gasped, his hips bucking into his hikari's tight grip.

"Again."

"Ryou!" Bakura moaned, passionately and with more fervour.

"Again!" Ryou was raising his voice now, his tone breathless as he felt himself nearing release.

"R-Ryou! Fuck it, Ryou, I'm c-"

"AGAIN." The hikari demanded, voice like thunder over Bakura's piteous mew of a moan.

" ** _RYOU!_** " Bakura shrieked, the last syllable warping into his climactic howl as his seed spilled into the boy's hand, warm and sticky.

For the first time, Ryou let out a slight groan of bliss, half of his mouth contorting into a crooked smile as the other remained motionless. With a final tug on his yami's hips, he released his load into Bakura's body, feeling the walls around his now flaccid manhood distending.

He went to wrench his organ out, but Bakura's deep growl stopped him in his tracks.

"No. Wait." Single-syllable words were about the only thing he could utter, apart from a single name. "Ryou, stay."

"Where? In your soul room? In the Ring?" The boy's voice was inquisitive and chirpy, having lost his callousness the moment he shot his seed.

"In me." Bakura grunted, shutting his eyes, cheeks burning in the afterglow but partially with humiliation. He'd just been bent to his own hikari. "Ryou, I want you to stay in me."

"Oh..." The full understanding of what he'd just done in a rage-filled fury hit Ryou like a tonne of bricks. What had he been thinking?! He just practically raped the spirit of a five thousand year old sociopath imbibed with the powers of darkness! The boy began to sweat, trying to think of a way to get out of this. "Bakura, I'm s-"

"Shut up." Bakura silenced him. "Don't ruin this with your half-sincere apologies. They'll do nothing for you."

Ryou gulped audibly. _This is it_ , he thought, _he's actually going to kill me_.

"Bakura-" He squeaked, the fear tightening his throat.

"Ryou." His yami growled back, planting both his feet on the ground again. "Tell me you hate me again. And not in that reedy tone. Mean it."

"I hate you, Bakura." The words suddenly felt unnatural leaving his lips, and despite putting all his feeling into the phrase, it didn't sound the same. Bakura didn't care though. He glared behind him at the pale boy, who suddenly looked terrified and fragile, and broke out into a wicked grin.

"Tell me something, Ryou. Can you only do that if I address you derogatorily? Answer wisely."

"I-I don't know." The hikari shrugged. Bakura chuckled darkly and pulled himself off of Ryou's flesh with a slight groan. Fastening his trousers, he turned back to his hikari and slid a pale, slender finger under the boy's chin.

"In that case, I shall have to experiment, my beautiful... volatile little yadonushi." He murmured, his eyes lighting up when Ryou puffed up his cheeks and pulled a face that looked like he was going to slap his yami again, though no collision came. Bakura laughed as softly as he could and brushed his lips against his hikari's. "We'll be seeing each other again very soon, Ryou."

A sucking feeling tugged at Ryou's stomach, and before he knew it, he'd woken on the sofa at home. Looking down on himself, he found his hips and lower torso lightly spattered with his own semen. His head seemed to have stopped pounding, though the blood was still soaked into the carpet and the vase was still on the floor in pieces. With a frown, Ryou dared to wonder if it had all been an insane wet dream, a hormone-induced delusion. The dark chuckles echoing around the inside of his head suggested otherwise.

 ** _Oh no, Ryou. It was all very real. I can still barely walk after our little… session._** Something had changed in Bakura’s voice; a gravelly, lustful undertone that Ryou had only ever heard him use when talking to Marik. **_As I said, I will reverently await our next encounter, my delightful little host. Or perhaps I shouldn’t call you that any more. No… plaything seems much more appropriate now. Go on now, little omocha. Perhaps you should clean yourself up before Marik gets back._**

Ryou shuddered at his new title and glanced down at his body again, tentatively raising a hand to his stomach to wipe some of the seed away. Dizzily, he rose and sat, gazing once more at the mess for a few minutes before the doorbell rang. Throwing on a clean shirt and Marik’s abandoned trousers he ran for the door.

“Who is it?”

“Oh, yadonushi. You’re awake.” Marik noted, no tone of appreciation in his voice. “I bought you some cleaning stuff for your sheets. I don’t know how she got in there but a cat-“

“I know, I know.” Ryou sighed, opening the door. “I suppose you want Bakura, am I right?”

“Yup.” Marik tottered in and crashed down on the sofa again. “Come on out, Bakura, I’m still a little drunk.”

The laughter rang in Ryou’s ears and he felt a gentle tug as his body pulled him out of consciousness.

 ** _Don’t worry, my lovely little omocha._** Bakura murmured, and Ryou felt the spirit touching him, caressing his brain with ghostly fingertips as he spoke. **_Every thrust he makes into me, I’ll be thinking of you._**

“What have I done…?” The boy breathed as his limbs fell limp and the darkness crept into his vision. Bakura had won after all. _You destroy everything you touch. You’ll destroy Marik eventually…_ His own words resonated around his head as he spun into the void. _What have I done?_


End file.
